


Screaming to the Sky

by blueslytherin



Category: Dear Evan Hansen
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, graphic description of a panic attack, im back bitches, not my best work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 04:12:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11912970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueslytherin/pseuds/blueslytherin
Summary: Connor has a panic attack





	Screaming to the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while venting so it's not my best work.  
> Based on my own experiences with panic attacks.

Connor didn't know what caused it. Maybe it was the countless cigars he had smoked that week. They'd given him hallucinations before; a little panic attack wasn't that much of a big deal.  
Or maybe it was the stress and anxiety tightly curled up in his gut for weeks that caused the problem. It was difficult to tell.  
All he knew was how it began.

Numbness spread throughout his entire body. That was the first sign. It was like his body was preparing him for what happened next. As if his body needed a moment to get ready for the overwhelming explosion of panic he would feel.  
His heart beat faster and faster, until he felt like it would burst out of his chest.  
Everything around him blurred, and all he could focus on was that feeling of fear rising like bile in his throat.  
He collapsed on his bedroom floor, unable to move.  
Then the demons came, escaping from whatever hellhole they crawled out of. They took over his head, and trapped him in it. They laughed as he screamed for help. "Oh, Connor," they said. "No one's coming to get you."  
He wasn't in control anymore. He was looking down at his body, unable to stop himself.  
He couldn't control these feelings. Weed helped, usually. It fogged up his thoughts, making it so that either him nor the demons were in control. He preferred it that way.  
His body was wracked with sobs. When did he start crying? He never cried.  
It was getting harder and harder to force air into his desperate lungs. He coughed once. Twice.  
No one was coming to save him from himself. Cynthia and Larry were at some kind of meeting with the school board, and as far as he knew, Zoe was still out at jazz band practice. He was all alone.  
This was never going to end. Connor would spend the rest of his life like this. Trapped and helpless. Weak.  
At least his life would end on his own terms.  
'I can't fucking do this anymore.' He thought.  
With shaking hands, he uncapped the bottle of anxiety pills he kept on his desk, dropping the bottle twice. Cynthia had bought them for him months ago. In hindsight, it probably wasn't a good idea to let her son keep them in his room after his first suicide attempt.  
He held the bottle in one hand and dumped the contents into his hand. He stared at them for a while. Just let me end this. Please.  
He was tired. So tired.  
Then, a little bit of light broke through the stormy clouds. Through the tears, he saw the door slam open and a figure in the doorway.  
"Connor? Oh my god, Connor, are you okay?"  
"I want to die," he sobbed, not caring who saw him. The pills fell to the ground.  
The figure crouched down, and he closed his eyes, just wishing the pain would end.  
"Connor, look at me."  
He blinked some of the tears away and looked straight into Zoe's big blue eyes.  
"I know you've done some bad shit in the past. I know that you've hurt me and mom and dad. But this doesn't matter right now."  
Zoe wrapped her arms around Connor's shaky body and pulled him into a bear hug.  
"You're Connor Murphy. You're my brother. You're Mom and Dad's son. This isn't you. I know you're in there somewhere. And deep down, I know you're a good person with a good heart. You can do it."  
As she spoke, the demons retreated, and he was back in control. Thoughts crowded his brain. Why was Zoe doing this? He couldn't tell if she actually liked him or not half the time. And she was right. He abused her. She didn't have to do this for him. She deserved a better brother than him.  
Zoe nestled her head in his shoulder, "I know we fight a lot, but I still love you."  
A moment of silence passed while he thought. Then, a memory floated to the surface of his mind. When Zoe was in seventh grade, she was getting bullied badly. One day, she had come home crying. When Connor asked why, she showed him a long cut on her forearm. He didn't think twice. That night he went out and broke the bully's wrist. He'd been grounded for two months after that incident, but all he remember about it was how strongly he had reacted to his sister being hurt. The two didn't get along, but when the other needed it most, they had each other's back. No matter what he and Zoe did to each other, between all the fighting and thorny insults hurled at the other, they still loved each other.  
He didn't deserve Zoe Murphy.  
"Thanks," Connor croaked out, "I love you too, Zoe."  
They stayed like this for a while. Connor was half asleep when Zoe broke the silence.  
"There's so much I want to say to you right now. About your weed habit and how I hate you sometimes for abusing me and that I wish I had never met you sometimes. But you still mean a lot to me. And I want to help you get better, Connor."  
She kissed him on the forehead. "Try. Please. If you won't do it for yourself, then do it for your family."  
He mumbled something that even he didn't understand.  
"Sleep." Zoe said, squeezing him tighter.  
And he did. 

Cynthia found them together in his bed the next morning, tangled in the sheets. She swore for months afterwards that she had seen a small smile on Connor's face as he slept.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr - shadynightkingdom


End file.
